


Lollipop

by LuckyWantsToKnow



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: A lollipop is eaten, F/F, J£nny, Ready To Blow, So there was this video online, There's a Motorcycle, smut ensues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 12:18:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyWantsToKnow/pseuds/LuckyWantsToKnow
Summary: Wynonna's gonna be pissed when she finds out what happened to her motorcycle.





	Lollipop

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up this morning to a video in my inbox in which a certain gorgeous person is dancing around and my head literally exploded. When I regained consciousness I had written this trash fire. If you haven't seen the Ready To Blow video, well, I'm sorry because you're really missing out. @comelayinmybed managed to edit it without disowning me. As for the sender of said video, look what you've done.  
> I'm so sorry, feel free to tell me off on Twitter @LuckyWantsTo

They’re lying face to face in Waverly’s bed, the setting sun filtering through the gauzy curtains and making the corners darker purple, laughing and squirming, legs tangled in animal print and fleece blankets.

“No, I swear to God!” Nicole laughs gaspingly, “That is the craziest thing I have ever done.”

“Singing ‘My Sharona’ at the Sheriff Department Christmas party is pretty wack-a-doodle for you, baby,” Waverly deadpans, and she’s smirking but also looks a little nervous when she continues, “but I still think I’ve got you beat.”

“Nicest person in Purgatory.” Nicole leans her head back into the pillows and purses her lips, stroking her chin in a pantomime of deep consideration. “Honestly…outside of the supernatural stuff I can’t imagine you doing anything crazier than wearing that white Narnia coat after Labor Day.”

“Nicole!” Waverly pokes her hard in the ribs and Nicole curls in on herself, laughing. Her own hand snakes out from underneath her and she grabs Waverly’s wrist; pulling it to her mouth she bites it gently and Waverly’s fingers trace the line of her cheekbone. They gaze at each other through lowered lids for a moment, warmth rising in their chests, when Nicole pulls away and sits up on her elbow. “How about a wager?”

Waverly’s already feeling a little hazy and she shakes her head to refocus. “A wager? What kind of wager?” “You tell me the craziest thing you’ve ever done and if it’s crazier than singing in front of Nedley, I’ll do whatever you want.” Waverly pushes up against the headboard. “Anything?” she asks, and this time she looks like a cat who’s caught a mouse. “Anything,” Nicole promises. “Pinky swear.”

Waverly laughs and curls her pinky into Nicole’s, then reaches for her laptop. “Come up here,” she says, and Nicole snuggles next to her against the headboard. The computer sits in Waverly’s lap and she covers the lid with her hands. Taking a deep breath she turns to look at Nicole. “Remember I told you I took that Film and Dance class at commuter college?”

“Yeah, you guys made a whiskey commercial. It was adorable,” Nicole smiles at her. “That _cannot_ be the craziest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Ah…no, baby. There was a Japanese soda company that wanted to shoot a commercial. They were willing to pay for it and I thought it’d be fun…and you know what? It was! I’ve never shared this with anyone and Purgatory doesn’t exactly get international television stations so…consider this my debut.”

The music starts…trashy, pumping…and Nicole stares open-mouthed as on screen, Waverly opens those sexy pink lips and slips a lollipop into her mouth.

“Sooo, they really wanted the video to be fun,” Waverly’s explaining over the Auto-Tuned lyrics, but Nicole’s barely hearing her because on-screen-Waverly is crazy for the beat. All skin-tight hot pants and a sheer white shirt, those firm thighs flexing and a knowing smirk, inexplicably cut with clips of a kitten, a can of soda, and Waverly holding a puppy, in a rose-tinted bedroom setting.

Nicole’s wide-eyed when she turns to Waverly, “You’re…humping a motorcycle…” she stutters and Waverly blushes lightly, but looks her in the eye when she answers, “That was my favorite part.”

******

“Where is Wynonna, anyhow?” Nicole calls with a grunt, as she muscles the Harley through the front door of the Homestead and into the living room. She rocks it up onto the center stand and props a block under the rear wheel for good measure, giving a few experimental tugs to the handlebars to make sure the bike is steady. She pulls off her parka, hastily thrown over her tank top and sweats for the trip to the barn, and slips her boots off by the door.

“It’s Thursday…Craft Night at Jeremy’s Secret Lair,” floats Waverly’s voice from up the stairs, and Nicole’s never been happier to lose a wager than she is right then. “Are you ready, baby?” Waverly calls. Nicole drops down into the plush leather armchair in front of the fireplace and watches the way the flames reflect in the motorcycle’s glossy black paint. _I’m going to hell for this_ , she thinks, then shrugs.

The now-familiar song queues up and Waverly appears at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing the same outfit from the video: skimpy denim shorts and a tight white ballet top and she’s even found a lollipop somewhere, which she deploys like a weapon as she sashays down the stairs and stops in front of Nicole. She grins at Nicole while lip-syncing the lyrics to the song, and Nicole observes absently that the grin is absolutely filthy. Her fingers grip the arms of the chair tightly as she watches Waverly dance to the song, recreating every provocative move, but she’s rearranged the dance slightly so that the motorcycle comes last, and that is the prize that Waverly has won in her wager with Nicole. Waverly wants something very specific, and she wants Nicole to give it to her.

Waverly drops to a squat in time with the music, her arms out to her sides, then bounces up and spins, briefly flaunting her denim clad ass in Nicole’s face. Nicole breathes heavily through her nose and her fingers clench involuntarily, her thighs have spread apart automatically and she can feel her own hot wetness. Waverly bends over and Nicole catches a brief glimpse of glorious cleavage as Waverly throws her shoulders back and shimmies, then slides the lollipop up her own stomach and slips it into her mouth. She puts one hand on her hip and pops it out, extending her other arm towards Nicole and quirking a finger in invitation.

Pulling Nicole to her feet, Waverly presses in close. She takes the lollipop out of her mouth and tugs Nicole’s face down to her own. Waverly’s mouth tastes like cotton candy, it’s hot and sticky and Nicole sucks hard at her tongue. Waverly lets her for a minute before pulling away with a smirk, tossing the lollipop into the fire, and climbing onto the Harley. As the beat continues to pound, Waverly throws her head back and grips the handlebars. Nicole can only watch dumbly as Waverly grinds her crotch into the tank of Wynonna’s motorcycle, bouncing up and down on the footrests. They’d watched the video together five times, Waverly slapping away Nicole’s hands with breathless laughter, but nothing had prepared Nicole for the real thing.

“Jesus Christ, Waverly,” Nicole grits out, and Waverly flashes her another angelic smile, swiveling her hips, and rocking forwards and backwards along the saddle of the motorcycle. “I won, baby,” Waverly reminds her, “You owe me.”

Nicole’s pretty sure Waverly knows that they’re both winners in this scenario. She doesn’t need any more encouragement to straddle her long legs over the low-slung Harley behind Waverly, who immediately presses her ass back into Nicole. She slides her hands around Waverly’s waist, grabbing the bottom of her shirt, and pulling it over Waverly’s head. Underneath she’s wearing a white silk bralette, and Nicole’s fingers drift up Waverly’s abdomen, trailing over the silk. She feels Waverly’s nipples harden underneath the fabric and for the first time, Waverly misses the beat of the song as her hips jolt backwards. Nicole smiles down into the skin of Waverly’s shoulder; she’s heard the song enough times that she can hum along as it plays on a loop through Waverly’s bluetooth speaker.

The room smells like burnt sugar as Nicole straightens up and pulls off her tank top. She leans over and lets her nipples tickle against the skin of Waverly’s back. Both of her hands ghost up Waverly’s front and over the outside of her bra. She teases a nipple into hardness and pinches it lightly between her fingers, while her other hand dips into Waverly’s waistband, unbuttoning the shorts and sliding down the tiny zipper. Waverly’s lips part slightly and she reaches back behind her head, tugging Nicole’s face closer by her hair. Nicole drags the tip of her tongue up the nape of Waverly’s neck and feels her shudder against her stomach.

“Go hard or go home,” Waverly purrs along to the song, and Nicole pushes the bralette over Waverly’s head with her fingertips. Both her hands find Waverly’s breasts and she cups them, marveling at their softness, as Waverly leans back into her, tipping her head back so that Nicole can kiss her. “I want to feel you, baby,” she pleads and guides one of Nicole’s hands down her stomach and into the front of her shorts. The beat is forgotten as Nicole’s fingers, still intertwined with Waverly’s, slide down into slick heat. Nicole bites into the soft flesh of Waverly’s neck as she feels her two fingers glide around Waverly’s clit, spreading wetness up and down her center, guided by Waverly herself to exactly where she wants her.

Waverly breathes in short choppy pants, knuckles white from her one-handed grip on the motorcycle handlebar. Nicole squeezes and pinches at Waverly’s nipple, light pain just teasing enough to to make Waverly gasp a little bit and push her ass harder into Nicole’s groin. Nicole grinds forward and pulls her fingers out of Waverly’s shorts.

“Bend over, baby, then lift up,” Nicole says lowly, and Waverly complies immediately. Nicole takes a minute to appreciate the view. The shorts are short enough to see Waverly’s hamstrings flexing hard and her glutes are trembling a little in anticipation.

“Nicky…please,” Waverly groans, and Nicole lost a wager, right? She smiles and leans in to give Waverly her prize. Sliding the shorts down Waverly’s body until they’re stretched tight across her quads, Nicole strokes her hands over the firm surface of Waverly’s ass. She places one hand on the middle of Waverly’s back and rubs up, gripping her shoulder tightly as she cups the other hand around Waverly’s sex. Bringing the first two fingers of her hand back in to tease and stroke Waverly’s clit, she simultaneously slips her thumb into Waverly. Waverly grips the motorcycle handlebars and grinds hard into the gas tank with a gasp of pleasure.

 _There’s something to be said for quality suspension when you’re fucking someone on a motorcycle_ , Nicole thinks, as she pulls Waverly hard into her, pounding her thumb against that tender front G-spot, pinching and teasing her clit between calloused fingers. Wet come gleams on the enamel and Waverly’s breasts squeak obscenely against the peanut tank. The motorcycle is well maintained; it’s Wynonna’s pride and joy after all, and there’s nary a creak from the bike as it rocks forward and backward. The only sound in the room is the persistent beat of Waverly’s soda commercial and hard panting breaths as Nicole fulfills Waverly’s fantasy, bringing her to a shivering orgasm all over the leather of Wynonna’s seat.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Waverly intones. Her legs have given out and she’s prone across the tank, trembling as she slaps uselessly at the handlebar grips. “Fuck, Nicole,” she giggles, as she stands up on the pegs, works her shorts up her hips, and dismounts the motorcycle unsteadily. Nicole steps backwards off the bike and up to Waverly, catching her in her arms. She looks Waverly in the eye as she sucks off her thumb. “And I thought 'My Sharona' was dirty,” she laughs. “Never gonna stop, give it up, such a dirty mind,” she sings, “you win baby.”


End file.
